


Maybe it's our red string of fate

by MoonlightCherries



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Letters, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:08:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26402419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlightCherries/pseuds/MoonlightCherries
Summary: “Don’t get melancholy when I’m not there.” Well you aren’t here, so who exactly is going to stop me from being melancholy?
Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to be honest, I barely edited this. I'm not really used to first person, but I deeply love letters. It's definitely not my best work, but it made me happy to write.  
> And yes, this was sort of inspired by "invisible string" by Taylor Swift.  
> As usual, I own none of the characters.

Dear Grantaire,

Courfeyrac is going to try and tell you that this is my fifth attempt at a letter. He is lying, do not listen to him.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately. And yes, I can already hear you saying, “but you always think a lot”.

Yes, I know that.

But I’ve thinking particularly about us lately. About how many times our paths crossed before we realized it. How much time we missed.

Yes, yes, I know. “Don’t get melancholy when I’m not there.” Well you aren’t  here, so who exactly is going to stop me from being melancholy?

First, I think, was the café on sixth street.

You worked there in the evenings during the week and I only went in on Saturday mornings to study. How many times did you come in to check the schedule or grab your apron? (Did you wear that apron? It was hideous, I hope you have pictures.) How many times was I too absorbed in what I was doing to see you walk by?

I can’t believe there was a time when you weren’t the first thing I noticed.

And Éponine worked there too, she used to bully me for getting sugary coffee. I still stand by my order, tell her that. Did she ever mention me, in passing maybe? The scrawny, angry freshman carrying more books than he needed and ordering drinks that were more sugar than coffee? We used to get into arguments about stupid things. It was nice. She is a worthy opponent in wit, as you would say.

Funny how I used to have an idea of Éponine that wasn’t tied to you.

Second, was the old science building on the far side of campus.

You had a linguistics class there on Wednesdays and Fridays, and I had an introductory bio class on the same days. We were less than fifteen minutes apart. We had to have passed each other in the hallway. We had to have heard the other talking to his friends. You had that class with Jean, they used to mention you – the funny, dark-haired, pretty boy in their class. Maybe he would have brought you to a meeting, or to a game night. Something always got in the way though.

You always tell me timing is everything. So, we wouldn’t have been right together, then. And I think that’s true. I was still so angry then, so ready to tear people to bits. Funny how you riled me up the most and ended up being the person to mellow me out.

Third was the closest. Our most ‘almost’ of them all. The Halloween party.

Who brought you? I can’t remember. Éponine, maybe? Or was it Joly? Courfeyrac brought me, no surprise there. I hadn’t wanted to go - you know how much I hate big parties. But I lost a bet, so I went. I was a pirate because it was the easiest thing I could put together. You were a cat. See, I saw you that night. I was walking to the door, and I heard you laughing under that horrible green lamp. I thought you looked kind. And then I left.

If I had just stayed. Maybe things would have been easier for us. Less fighting, less yelling. If we had met first outside of the context of the meetings.

But, I’m sure you would point out, we didn’t. And we made it work. It’s what we do.

I hate it when you’re gone. There’s no one to stop me from being melancholy.

Come home soon.

Love,

Enjolras


	2. Don't be sad when I'm not there

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess i just really like letter writing damn.

Dear Enjolras, 

Clown shit. That’s all I have to say.   
Of course I think about our missed moments and whatnot. Of course I do. But where you and I differ, darling, is that I don’t think about those when we are apart.   
When we are apart I think about things like when we took Jean and Courf to the farmers market and Jean stood at that organic soap stand for twenty minutes and you just stood there and watched them while quietly telling me all about how good farmers markets were for communities.   
I think about when you told me you wanted to see me get a tattoo, before we were dating, after we stopped fighting. (More or less, anyway.) How you sat there and watched me with scary intensity, about the hundreds of questions you asked the artist. You hardly ever took your eyes off mine and squeezed my hand when the pain got bad. I thought I was going to pass out, it was so much focused attention from someone I had such strong feelings for. 

I think about how nervous you were when you took me to your favorite bookstore that first time, as if I wouldn’t like it. I think about how you blushed when you showed me the sections for art and for foreign language.   
I think about going to the park on Friday afternoons, after class, when you would fall asleep in the grass, hand in mine.   
I think about us. And how happy we are now.   
We can’t waste our time thinking about regrets, Enj, you know we can’t. Next time you get melancholy go over to Éponine’s and tell her I said to smack some sense into you. You know she will.   
I’ll be home before you know it.   
Love always,   
Grantaire


End file.
